


Peace on the Other Side of Conflict

by Amilyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilyn/pseuds/Amilyn
Summary: Han and Leia come to an understanding and some agreements in the aftermath of the destruction of the second Death Star.





	Peace on the Other Side of Conflict

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lajulie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lajulie/gifts).



> Written for lajulie for JediFest December Drabbles 2017. Prompt: Han/Leia, Truth.

Leia spooned into Han, with his arm around her waist. She kept her left arm still; it ached, and the blaster wound burned despite Han's careful application of bacta salve.

Her adrenaline- and jubilation-charged mind would not quiet. Thoughts of victory in reach spun through her head. She shifted her weight.

His voice rumbled in her ear. "You okay, sweetheart?"

She shivered. It wasn't cold on the fur pallet of the Ewok lodgings, but his breath lifting her unbound hair was titillating.

She thought she'd long since given up on Alderaanian mores. She'd killed more sentients than she'd ever be able to count, sent more to die than she could remember.

She could still see every face of those who died in her first year as a member of High Command. Since then, it was a blur of so many, so many.

Han squeezed her forearm. "Hey. You okay?"

She nodded, keenly aware he could feel her movements.

"Do you know how long it's been since someone--a man--has seen me with my hair unbound?"

"Since yesterday?" His voice was thick with irony.

She elbowed him lightly, causing them both to groan, "Ow."

"Okay, bad move."

"Your arm okay?"

"It's fine. Just sore while it's healing." She turned her fingertips in light circles on his forearm. "Before yesterday."

Han was silent, finally replying, "I don't remember ever seeing your hair down. Not even on the way to Bespin."

"I was sixteen."

"He must have been special."

"My first love."

"No one ever forgets their first."

She turned toward him. "You'll have to tell me about yours sometime."

"Sometime," he agreed, kissing her cheek.

A long silence followed, and she finally blurted the name she'd not spoken in years. "Kier. His name was Kier. He was from Alderaan. We were Apprentice Legislators and in the Pathfinding Corps together."

"Pathfinding Corps, huh? That where you learned all those non-princess-y survival skills?"

Leia chuckled. "It is. My mother's idea, though she didn't intend for me to use them fighting a war." She swallowed. "The truth is, Kier thought the Rebellion would endanger Alderaan, while my parents were helping found and expand it. Turns out he was right, and they're all dead and gone."

Han kissed the back of her head and behind her ear, pulling her close. "Today put us an awful lot closer to your parents' dream."

"Did it?" She scooted onto her back, peering through the darkness towards Han's face. "Alderaan was not just peaceful. We were pacifists. I wonder if their dream to restore the Republic included me becoming a murderer, an officer who sends people to their deaths, a terrorist who blows up structures even when there are civilians on them."

Han lifted his head to rest on his hand and laced his other hand through her fingers. "Your parents were smart people." As she started to speak, he said, "Ah ah! I _know_ they were smart because they raised you to be brilliant and kind and fierce. That kind of balance don't just happen. Even pacifists can't stand put ideals above reality. Not against tyranny." He squeezed her hand. "That's complicity. You taught me that. Clearly your parents taught you. Sometimes peace is only possible on the other side of conflict. Even if it means war."

She brought his hand up and kissed it. "My parents would have liked you, you know."

Han laughed out loud. "Sweetheart, I can assure you that your father would _not_ have been happy a scoundrel was cuddling up to his little girl--not that you're a little girl, but all fathers--"

"I know. Mother would have loved you for it--the scoundrel and the cuddling--and Father would have gotten past it. They would have seen your bravery and your loyalty and your wisdom."

"Is that so?" That self-satisfied grin was audible.

"Mother would have taken the wind out of you when you get like that, though."

Han scoffed.

"They would have seen that you make me happy. That you make me better." She lay quiet for a moment, listening to the crackling fires, songs of those still celebrating, and the forest insects. His thumb moved, lightly and steadily, against her hand, and she knew her most fundamental truth in that moment.

She sat up, tugging up so they were sitting cross-legged, facing each other. She took both of his hands. "Han, I love you."

"I know. I love you too." He sounded confused.

"I don't know how much longer we will have to fight. I don't know if we'll both see the last of the Empire fall. But no matter what, I want to be with you. I want to spend my life, no matter what it brings, no matter how long or short, with you. Will you marry me?"

"Of course I want to marry you." He kissed her hands, one at a time, then brought his lips to her forehead, her neck, and her lips before he sat back.

There was a long moment where he simply held her hands. The connection was firm, sure, and warm.

"Then let's get married tomorrow, while everyone is here, before the rest of the war scatters us again." She leaned forward, pushing up on her knees, and kissed him. She laced her good hand into his hair and gripped it. Her heart skipped. She could do this forever.

"I think that sounds perfect." He returned the kiss, slipping both hands through her hair to cradle her head. He shifted one hand, brushing fingers against her temple before stroking the length of her hair. As they kissed, one hand stroked the length of her hair while his other remained twined in it next to her scalp. It took Leia's breath away.

They pulled back, noses still touching, then kissed lightly again, and again. Leia leaned her forehead to his then guided them back onto the pallet and snuggled in. His breath lifted her hair again.

Excitement shuddered through her, promises for when they were father from their compatriots, better healed, and less bone-weary.

Just as she'd got comfortable, he muttered, "You're s'posed to let _me_ propose, you know."

"Alderaan is matriarchal. Get used to it, flyboy."

He kissed her ear once more and murmured, "I think I already have" before they drifted to sleep intertwined.

*~***~***~*


End file.
